


is it true that ain't shit change

by blastellanos



Category: Baseball RPF, National Football League RPF
Genre: Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 08:37:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13073193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blastellanos/pseuds/blastellanos
Summary: He should have known– honestly should have known– that winter break with Matt home from college would be like this.





	is it true that ain't shit change

Clayton is chewing on way too much bubblegum, shoved in to the side of his mouth like he’s a big-leaguer already, and he’s got a mouth of dip, and he’s looking down at the sidewalk chalk drawing down in front of them. The hose is running nearby to erase the evidence, and Clayton shields his eyes from the sun with one big hand, then looks back down at it. 

He should have known– honestly should have known– that winter break with Matt home from college would be like this. The x’s and o’s look like an offensive playbook and he remembers knocking around Highland Park looking over them as Matt’s center. 

He should have known this was going to happen. 

He looks down at the x’s and o’s again in the pastel sidewalk chalk. 

“Alright, go through it again…” Clayton says. Matt looks up at him, hazel eyes glittering in amusement. 

“Good thing you went in to baseball,” Matt quips and Clayton takes a swipe at him, knocking the Cowboys hate off of his curly hair. 

“Good thing I don’t kick your ass.” Clayton grumbles in return. 

“Try me,” Matt says and Clayton swipes at him again, though this time Matt ducks away before he can get clipped. “Anyways, pay attention. So, your parents and my parents are going out for dinner, if we can sneak in to dad’s office before they leave, we can get the key to the liquor cabinet. My parents are leaving for up North, right after dinner, so if we can get the keys, we can party.” 

“You can just…” Clayton starts and he looks at Matt. “Why do you have a play drawn up for it?” 

“Because, we gotta run it like one, it’s like– a 1-2 punch, we have to do it right, if we get caught trying to sneak the key we’ll probably have to go up north with them. Do you _remember_ when we spent an entire week in Minnesota on that stupid lake, Clayton? _Do you_?” 

Clayton doesn’t have bad memories of it. Mr. and Mrs. Stafford had been pleasant enough, he remembers meeting a pretty little girl in a cabin down the street, and getting his first kiss in a clearing full of fireflies. 

“So your plan …” 

“So you distract him, you’re gonna use your minor league career, who did you meet at spring training, did you strike anyone important out? Who cares, whatever story, you know dad eats that shit up.” He points to an X in front of a line drawn crudely like a desk. 

“I’m gonna come in with you, and while you’re talking to him, I’m going to sidle along this route to get his keys, slide the liquor cabinet one off, and pocket it– put the keys back, and sidle back on over.” 

Clayton stares. 

“What about these X’s?” He asks.

“Those are just for show. There’s eleven men on offense and defense, you should remember at least that much, we’ve been playing since junior high.” 

Clayton rolls his eyes. 

“This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever come up with.” Clayton sighs a little and then shrugs. “I’m in.” 

Matt grins and grabs Clayton by the back of the neck. “Memorize the plan. You got it?” 

He washes it away with the hose and Clayton stretches, knocking Matt’s cap off again. It was good to be home.


End file.
